


Horns, wings and time

by DumbBitchWitch



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, BAMF Bobby Finstok, Blind Stiles Stilinski, Character Death, I'm Bad At Tagging, Left Hand Peter Hale, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Warning: Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26214598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DumbBitchWitch/pseuds/DumbBitchWitch
Summary: The pack is dead, Stiles doesn't know what to do, but going back in time seemed like a good idea, even if he had to pay a price for it.
Relationships: Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski, Bobby Finstock & Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 38
Kudos: 271





	1. An Alpha, a human and a hunter

Stiles doesn't understand why he accepted his “grandfather's” offer. When he had the idea of invoking his father, it was nothing more than a reckoning. What happened? Why didn't he help his mother when he had the power to do that? Did he care? Did his biological father know of its existence? There were many questions for a mind that could no longer take losses. In one last thought, he wondered if the creature could  _ help him.  _ Something more delusional than a real conviction, but it was worth trying, not when he had nothing left.

And now, here he was in the forest that took up a large part of the city where he was born, surrounded by trees and with a small backpack on his back, getting ready to go and talk to the resident Alpha. Stiles knew Talia, at least, he knew the stories he had heard from her children and his brother, yet the boy did not feel ready to face the new pack (or the old one, in this case) when  _ his pack  _ had been buried so few days ago. 

Stiles didn't know if he could stand to see the imposing, strong and healthy Hale pack as Cora and Peter used to describe, when his own, also a Hale pack, did not even reach the foot of the fairy tale that their descendants told.

Unfortunately, it was necessary. He had made a deal to get here, a really good one, if he needed to count his losses, so that he had a chance to turn things around,  _ change them,  _ make the future of Beacon Hills something more crystalline and not the dark hole of hatred and deaths he became, and for that, he needed to  _ at least  _ stay in the city, which would not be possible without a conversation with Alpha before.

He could try to hide from her, pretend to be just another normal human with no knowledge of the supernatural, but it would be a futile exercise. His skin was marked, inside and out with physical and metaphorical tattoos proving his involvement. In addition, he smelled like an embroidered net that wolves would probably have smelled for miles, sewn with scents of wolves, banshee and kitsune, even though old and Stiles was unable to take that away from himself, erase the last proof of the existence of his friends, his family ...  _ his pack. _

So he walks, it's funny because he can  _ feel  _ the direction he should go, he can almost hear the wind whispering in his ear, the leaves swaying and pointing him in the right direction.  _ Go,  _ he hears them,  _ move on, be careful, you're almost there.  _ And this, this is comforting, because he at least still has them by his side, he can feel the soil purring under his feet, the soil that he cared for, cultivated and protected a few years ago (in the future, now), even in sneakers , mumbling  _ for him to be careful, careful, careful _ .

When he made the deal with Azazel and the demon asked him for something important, something necessary for him and that meant a lot, Stiles almost gave up, because what was he going to give? All the things that were important to him were finished and dead. His favorite people, the places he loved, all destroyed. So, when did the demon tell you it could be a sense? It was  _ easy, and _ refusing to think about why giving up something he was born with was so easy, Stiles laughed. He laughed and his grandfather almost looked curious. 

Stiles gave his vision, after all, his speech was something that despite not using much in the last months, he could not see himself without. Hearing was something else, he could go, too, but not as easy as sight, not when everything he most wanted to see was nothing but ash buried in the Beacon Hills forest. 

Funny, when Stiles made the deal, he thought the demon would take his whole vision, leave him in the dark permanently, but that was not the case and Stiles wondered if it would be easier or more difficult if that were really the case. 

His eyes still  _ saw _ , a little, in black and white and were usually so sensitive to light that it hurt like hell if they opened them during the day, but he could still see. He didn't do him much favor, not when he kept them closed during the day and night he could barely see an inch in front of his nose, but it was the deal and Stiles would usually take any advantage he was given. He still didn't understand why, but he was sure he would soon. 

______

The house - mansion - of the Hale pack was interesting, when it was not transformed into a charred and fetid carcass, it was like a beating heart: noisy, exuding life and with an aura of strength around it. Stiles could feel, even a little distant, walking slowly towards the door, that this was a house, a  _ home.  _ Not the decrepit thing Derek took refuge in.

When he reaches the stairs leading to the door, it opens and someone leaves. Wolves are silent, at least adults, so it's hard to tell them apart, but Stiles knows that at least it's someone who can take him to Talia.

"I would like to talk to your Alpha." he says simply, not even waiting for the other person to speak, because he is actually not in the mood to talk or worse, explains himself, to someone who is not the Alpha of the territory.

Whoever they doesn't say a word, just turns on his heels and goes back to the house, inside he says "Follow me." in a low, deep voice. Stiles, of course, does what he says, hoping to get this problem out of the way before going to find a decent place to settle.

The people inside Talia Hale's huge office make no noise at all, but Stiles knows they are there, with their eyes focused on him from all sides. His eyes, still closed under the dark glasses, remain closed, because Stiles knows that trying to open them would be a futile exercise, since he couldn't take even a second of light. It is not so difficult, however, to count the controlled breaths and the restless movements of some of them. Six people probably. 

When Stiles read about losing one of his senses and saw thousands of people claim that his senses were improved, the ones that remained at least, he had never believed that it really happened, after all, if he wasn’t listening well, how losing a sense would help in listening best? But now that he  _ knows  _ from experience, it's amazing how much the human body can adapt.

He wonders if Deucalion also had his senses expanded in the same way. Probably more, taking into account all the accumulation of power. 

"What do you need, young witcher?" Talia asks. Stiles knows that it is her only from the power he can hear in her voice, the haughtiness in her way of speaking. 

"A witcher?" he asks, curious. In all his years, this is the first time that someone has compared him to something so powerful, but he does not wait for an answer. “I would like to warn you about my entry into your territory, Alpha. I cannot say how long I will stay, for now, but I ask for your blessing. ”

A heavy silence seems to permeate the place, but Stiles cannot point out the reason, simply because they need not worry about him, not a blind human.

"If you're not a witcher, what are you?" another voice asks, one easily recognizable despite the little effort its owner made to use it. 

"A spark, I do have some magic, but not that much." he dodge the question.

"Sparks are powerful creatures," Alan Deaton counters, his voice a touch of admiration. "How old are you?"

"A few sparks are powerful, in fact, taking into account the fuel of our power."

"And what would that fuel be?" Alpha asks, curious. Stiles doesn't know if she is talking to him or to Deaton. 

"Belief" the emissary replies anyway "They just need to  _ believe  _ and it is done"

"That's ... a lot, isn't it?"

"Yes, for some people" Stiles shrugs. "Unfortunately, I was never very credulous."

"And what would your name be, Spark?"

"Stiles"

"Is it your first name?" the Alpha asks, looking genuinely curious. 

"A nickname, my name is practically unpronounceable."

Stiles does not offer that name, not when he has learned with great effort the fact that you  _ do not _ trust anyone with your name, no matter how reliable they seem.

“Stiles, what are you looking for in Beacon Hills? "

Deaton's voice seems suspicious, as always. The man was never the friendliest he has ever met, so Stiles is not surprised by the question, although he does not want to answer.

“I have always heard that Alpha Hale was a good leader. took good care of her territory. It is preferable for me to stay in a well-protected territory, even if my spark is not the strongest. ”

Stiles, luckily, was always good at lying to wolves, even before he found out about his little built-in lie detectors. He always lied, he always mastered that little quality and being the sheriff’s son, he needed to be. So when he lies, he lies through facts.

Did he hear that Talia is a good alpha? Yes, from Deucalion before killing half of his pack? Yes, but still a fact. 

Sparks need to be protected from hunters, dealers, witches and darachs? Yes, that doesn’t mean that Stiles needs that protection, however. 

It’s obvious that the wolves will take on another version of the story, that Stiles is a not too strong spark and that he just wants peace. 

“I see” the woman responds simply and it looks like there is a conversation going on silently in front of him. The wolves who are with them haven't made any noise or protest yet, so Stiles sees it as a victory.

"Spark Stiles, you're allowed into Hale territory for as long as you wish, from long as you don't hurt anyone in town, don't disturb the balance of the pack, and don't do anything that might reveal the existence of supernatural beings to humans. You should come to the pack's house at least every fortnight, we would like to monitor your condition closely. ”

"My  _ status?" _ he asks curiously, because he didn't feel like he was sick, as they made it seem.

"Talia meant your status as a spark without a pack and lonely."

This is hard and Stiles can almost feel like a knife running through his heart. He didn't have a pack, it was obvious and he was lonely, of course, but why is the emissary so  _ cruel  _ without any need?

"Nice choice of words, Druid." 

"Alan Deaton," the man says quickly, as if Stiles cares. He was never the biggest fan of the vet in particular, he had been of great help to Scott, but to people besides him? No. So especially after the ritual in which Stiles died for a short period of time, he relied even less on the Druid's strange methods. 

"Well, if that's all, I have to go."

He waited a while for someone to speak, then when none of the people in the room said anything, he turned to the door with the intention of leaving. He did not notice the movement until he opened the door and a small body stuck to his legs, almost knocking him over in the process.

"Uncle Pete!" a small voice hissed at his feet, making Stiles feel a little uneasy.

“Cora! This is not your uncle, stop it! ”

Of course, it had to be the little beast, attacking him like that. He always had this morbid curiosity about the Hales' personalities, whether they really were that fierce and distant because of the fire or it was something they were born with. At least Cora looked really fierce at the moment. Before he could do anything, speak or move, he felt small teeth digging into his thigh.

"Hey! What the fuck? ”

"That's for cheating me," the little girl said simply, walking away as if  _ he  _ were to blame for his mistake. 

"Watch what's going on around you before you jump on people and you won't be deceived" Stiles shoots back, a little bitterly as he reaches for his thigh and tries to find out whether the liquid in his hand is the girl's blood or drool. "How disgusting," he says at last, sighing and ignoring the twinge his muscles make when he supports his body weight on his leg. Sharp-toothed little monster.

"If you want to go clean up in the bathroom we can-"

"No, thanks. I believe that we are finished and I prefer to go find a place to sleep still tonight"

"Okay" the matriarch sighs, looking tired. "And I'm sorry about that, I promise it won't happen again."

"You didn't do anything and children are just children" Stiles says simply, heading towards the door "but be careful of the people your daughter throws herself at, next time it could be someone more important than a half-blind human."

When he hears the startled sigh from behind Stiles struggles not to flinch a little, he was not planning to simply tell them that he was blind, after all, pointing out his weaknesses to stronger predators was just stupid. Rolling his eyes at his own idiocy, he waves over his shoulder and leaves the office, trying to remember the path he took there. 

_______

If there was one thing Christopher hated, it was having to check information from new residents of Beacon Hills. The city was not New York, of course, with many tourists and new people every millisecond, but still there were always new residents who were generally new residents who just wanted to get jobs as bartenders or librarians and live alone, not the next psychotic creature as his father and Victoria thought.

However, there he was, approaching the newest literary Café 一 and single, so far 一 to observe and try to find out whether or not the new inhabitant is a supernatural creature about to bathe the city in the blood of innocents. The boy, as far as he knew, is in his twenties. He has black hair, pale skin and is prone to mood swings. Chris doesn't like the part that mentions the mood swings, usually indicating the existence of shapeshifters, yet ordinary humans were still able to represent this kind of thing easily. His sister Kate was a very good example of this. 

He is quite annoyed when he enters the cafe and can see people staring at him and looking away soon after, so he chooses a table further away from the general public, but where he can watch other customers come and go and stay for there, a little more sulkily every second he watches and the boy who was described to him  _ does not appear.  _

Hours pass, it is almost close to getting dark when someone approaches him and takes him out of his state of almost deadly boredom.

“I'm sorry to interrupt anything you're doing” a male voice speaks over him, looking a little annoyed “But from what I've been told, you're here for a time staring at everyone with that look of deadly hatred without making any request” when Chris looks at above, he notices the man who has been waiting for half the day staring at him with a frown "Are you going to ask for something or ...?"

The hunter honestly did not know what to say at that moment, he knew that the boy he was trying to investigate was not someone strange, all the other hunters described him as ordinary, so obviously he did not expect the most beautiful person he had ever seen in all your life. The boy, Stiles 一 Chris read the name on the uniform 一, had pink lips and pale skin full of signs of beauty, his upturned nose was ridiculously adorable as he organized the sunglasses he was wearing. And why would he be wearing sunglasses?

"So?" the boy asked again, waking him from his daydreams. “Coffee, juice, literary indications…? We can offer a lot of things, or you can leave and stop taking the place ”

Chris blinks and stares at the boy for some more time. His expression is not easy to read and he practically chased him out of the place with a bored sigh. The hunter wonders what the boy is seeing in him, what he imagined the man could be doing while sitting there and asks for nothing.

"A coffee" He finally answers and sees the boy's eyebrows rising a little, but other than that nothing else reveals his surprise. "How about you refer me a book?"

Stiles nods and doesn't say a word as he walks away towards the counter. Chris doesn't know what to think about this. He follows the boy's walk until he reaches the counter and passes his order with disdain, before going to the nearest bookcase, seeming to take the first thing he sees ahead. 

When the boy returns, with a plain black book and coffee as black, Chris feels strangely irritated by the treatment. He's not the type to lose his temper with people he doesn't need to care so much about, but here he is, about to throw the book back in the face of his attendant.

"Do you even know what it says here?" he ends up asking, his voice clipped as he leaves through what the man gave him. 

"Obviously." the other says, his tone speaks to how much he thinks Chris is stupid just to consider asking the question. “It is the Book of Saint Cyprian, practically a small relic that everyone should read, it talks about spells, exorcisms and enchantments. It is a great read for those who like to read about history and ancient customs. ”

"It's very interesting," the boy says, as if he doesn't expect Chris to read. "Even for those who do not believe in this type of thing, there are many interesting curiosities."

"And do you believe it?"

Stiles looks at him, seeming to study him deeply before shrugging. The hunter does not know how a person wearing sunglasses at night can seem so  _ critical _ about another person.

"I don't know, sometimes it seems like there are things out there that science doesn't explain." he waves his hand lightly "At the same time, it seems that these things were invented to scare or deceive the gullible into a maneuver in the hand of the church."

Stiles looks around at the last part, seeming to see if someone is not listening to their conversation. When he sees Chris watching him he snorts. "You can never be too careful with fanatics," he explains, "the last time I said something like that the lady I was serving almost hit me with a heavy bible."

"And how do you know that I'm not going to do something like that?"

"You didn't seem too tempted to tell me about how that book was a demon thing until now."

Well, it makes sense. He knows that the book has some things that really make sense, he didn’t even think of speaking about how it would go against the religions of people in a small town like Beacon Hills. 

"Well, if you're not going to need me anymore, I have other tables to attend to" and with that, Stiles just leaves, not bothering to wait and see what he has to say. Brat.

_ At least,  _ Chris thinks, _ he is not the monster of the week we have to fight.  _


	2. Strangers, drugs and tatoos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is following the new guy, just for discover that the new guy seems to be more than a poor human. Of course. Everything in Beacon Hills is more than it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: some things suggest rape/non-con, so be careful

Stiles hates with all his might the new job he got. Not that pay badly, he wishes it were that. The problem is the giggles of the girls who decided to show up  _ every day  _ after he was hired. He knew this was not their custom before he showed up, he asked his co-workers and they all said that the rise of so many high school kids in the café only started after he showed up.

The human has no idea why they show up every day and keep looking for his opinion of any book they find, but at least he can get a little distracted from Chris Argent's eyes on one side of the cafeteria and the constant attention of someone from the Hale Pack on the other. It is stupid of them to watch him like that, so brazen, as if he were going to do something minimally suspicious in front of a member of a large family of hunters or a werewolf who can only cut his throat at the slightest sign of danger.

"Mietek" his co-worker calls him, Bobby Finstock of all people. The man is already a professor at Beacon Hills High so Stiles doesn't understand why he's here three times a week during night shifts, but he doesn't ask. "Attend those teenagers right away, I can't see my students looking at your ass anymore."

"Cupcake, my ass is making me get good tips, stop talking bad about her" Stiles is serious, because if the reason these girls are there every day is your ass, fine. Only what they spend on tips with him in the week is paying the installments of his semi-new cell phone (it's a dinosaur, but he can't show his 21st century smartphone to the population, unfortunately).

“I'm talking bad about you, your ass looks great” and with that he slaps Stiles' butt. The younger guy can see the girls nearby almost having a heart attack with it. He hears whispers about " _ married"  _ and " _ gay".  _ Stiles certainly doesn't even want to imagine anyone thinking that he's in a relationship with Bobby because of  _ Finstock, his lacrosse trainer _ . Still, he wants to laugh at the girls' scared and slightly curious look. 

"Glad you like Bobby" Stiles rolls his eyes "now stop being hypocritical, if you like they can also appreciate it".

"I don't know if I agree with my students being seduced by someone older and much older than them."

“First,  _ you  _ are old. Second, I am not seducing anyone, they are objectifying an ordinary worker with their vulture looks and invading my workspace. It's their fault, not mine.”

"Boy, you should go to law school or something, I bet you would destroy your opponents."

"Bobby, I always destroy my opponents." He replies, looking over his shoulder as he makes another cappuccino for the girls. They will have bad teeth if they keep asking for so much candy.

"Keep talking like that and your bad boy fame will only increase, handsome boy." Bobby leans against the counter and sighs "I don't know how people don't realize that you're just another cute guy who makes apple pie on weekends."

"I did it  _ once."  _

Stiles can feel crowds of eyes staring at his back, it seems that all the regulars decided that he needed to be watched closely or something. Bobby smiles at him, the man looks the same as Stiles knows: tousled and tousled hair, big dark circles and a manic smile. Still, he still looks the nicest of the two on the spot, which seems a little offensive, if Stiles thinks about it too much. Fortunately he doesn't think.

"I think you should be careful." Bobby whispers to him after ten, when the high school students are gone and their jailers are ready to go too. "These people are dangerous, not just the Hale, the Argent as well."

Stiles stares at the man carefully, then nods and removes his glasses from his face, after the coffee is locked under seven keys and they are in the middle of a dark alley. Finstock is trying to smoke his weight on cigarettes, it seems. 

His eyes are good at night, considering that the dark doesn't show much he can almost see the details of the older man's face. Every night he looks the same, tired and dejected. Stiles wonders if the man sees the same on his face when he looks at him. 

Bobby is the only one who doesn't treat him as a serial killer because of the tattoos covering his arms and the glasses stuck tightly to his face all day. He treats you with care, even too much at times, but also with respect. Like he did when he was your coach.

"You look like Mietek shit."

"Look who's talking."

They dive in silence when Stiles decides to pull out his own pack of cigarettes and light it. The younger man used to condemn any type of addiction after he almost lost his father to drinking, but when most of your friends are buried and you have to live buried in guilt and remorse, some addictions to forget reality seem too good to refuse. 

"I'm not messing with them," Stiles explains after a while, exhaling cigarette smoke easily. "It's not my fault if they come after me."

"Be careful, everyone they seem to  _ be interested in  _ ends up disappearing." Bobby gives him a half smile "And I like you, don't let them throw your body in a ditch."

"Heh, as if it were easy." Stiles looks up, it's a new moon, and the sky is more starry than he's ever seen in Beacon Hills. "Do you want to go to my house?" Bobby asks after throwing the rest of the cigarette on the floor and stepping on it. "Got a good shit from Greenberg"

Stiles just arches an eyebrow at that, he was never very close or knowledgeable about Greenberg's family, but as far as he knew his father was a calm man, always very peaceful, if not a little  _ slow.  _ And your mother was too straight to have anything to do with marijuana. 

"Lead the way" is what he says, unlike the many questions he has in mind for when Bobby is tall as a kite and will not remember what he said the next day. 

______

One of the first things Stiles did after leaving the Hale mansion was to visit his parents. Of course, he didn't show himself to them and said 'Hi! I am your son and I came from the future! ' no, he observed from a distance, pretended he was looking for a house in the neighborhood, and learned about half the street because of Mrs. Marlim, an old gossip of his time, but a good woman. 

His parents did not have a child.

It seems that one Stiles Stilinski could live at that time and that was him. It was good, actually. It was great not to have to deal with people wondering why the sheriff's son had the same name as him. Still, it was like having a knife stuck in your chest to see your mother, young, happy and without any illness so far, and your father, without white hair from stress and without the weight of years and years of worry and alcohol on his shoulders.

He tried not to see them again, because only his images in the distance had the ability to rip his heart out of his chest and crush it. Stiles didn't have the mental strength to face them every day, at least not yet. Then he ran away, found a more or less good apartment, with a room and a half decent kitchen next to Bobby's apartment and started to work.

It was not a bad lifestyle, not for the first week at least, when he had been asleep for almost three days and practically threw himself dead on the bed. Now, after making up for lost hours, Stiles couldn't take a nap without nightmares invading him. 

Honestly, sleep paralysis was worse than your nightmares. He knew it was just nightmares when he woke up and knowing it was calming when the realization that something real would be far worse than some dreams. But not paralysis, he was stuck in it without moving and watching things happen around him. It was like Nogitsune, with no control over his own body and no idea how to  _ stop it.  _

Stiles didn't know how to make it stop sincerely, not until Bobby asked him to smoke a little and oddly enough marijuana and alcohol knocked him out harder than a diazepam. The other day his head ached and his muscles were destroyed, as if he had been beaten and maybe not much better than staying up all night, but at least he was able to  _ sleep,  _ which he hasn't done right since his father's death. . 

"I love it when you look tired, you look like a  _ real  _ delinquent." Bobby says, while Stiles spreads cakes over the counter "I love it when the ladies come here and feel like running away, they always thought I was cute and called me Cupcake."

“That's because you were raised here, you idiot. And you're cute, there's no denying that. ”

"If I get some tattoos, will people find me scary?"

Stiles laughs at him. Bobby is _ adorable _ , in a completely strange way, but still very ridiculously cute. It's like Danny, Stiles thinks, who was friendly, friendly to everyone and had dimples. Bobby is almost the same, despite his slightly insane smile and the look of someone who has seen too much going on. He also has dimples that are cute. 

He is even more adorable when a certain woman walks into the bookstore and takes all of her best books for her daughter who reads like a little page-consuming caterpillar. Natalie Martin is a beautiful woman, she always was, but with her glasses and the care to choose thebook  _ perfect  _ for her daughter she looks even more beautiful. She is, however, a married woman and Bobby has been suffering internally for some time.

"Hey, are we going to Jungle today?"

Stiles stares at the other man. Bobby is a good five or seven years older than he is and knows that Stiles is not of legal age to enter these places. Still, Cupcake looks back at you, with a raised eyebrow.

"You have a fake ID card and I know that Mietek, don't be silly."

“What makes you think that I want to go to a place like this? Why do  _ you  _ want to go to a place like this? ” the other sighs, rolls his eyes and shrugs, almost simultaneously. Stiles doesn't know how he does it. “I just want to get this woman out of my head before I do anything stupid, I don't know. Come with me, please?"

Stiles doesn't want to go to any party or nightclub, it seems strange to go to Jungle without Scott or Danny, who have accompanied him so many times, but Cupcake looks a little miserable, so Stiles gives in.

"You will pay for my drink." That's all Stiles says, because he knows that to endure the mountain of memories and nostalgia that Jungle will bring, he will need at least three strong doses.

______

Chris follows the two men to Jungle carefully, if Bobby sees him there it will be ridiculously strange, mainly because the man does not usually react calmly to anything and the hunter does not want to draw too much attention to himself. He's happy, finally the week the boy's watching is over, the boy seems just somewhere between generally taciturn and moderately irritated most days and besides working at the bookstore the most exciting thing he did in the meantime is going to Jungle, normal thing for the inhabitants of the city.

The hunter had never been there before, however. Being one of Gerard's soldiers guaranteed that time for leisure and activities like going to nightclubs was non-existent at best and punishable at worst. Being married to Victoria guaranteed him some chance to be able to go to bars and restaurants when the two were very overwhelmed with the family's duties, but even so they were still few times out, since now they had a little girl to raise and care for and they were both too paranoid to trust a nanny.

Chris could also see one of Talia's wolves in the distance following the two men in the distance. Careful with your steps so as not to attract attention, but still visible to the hunter. They didn't know each other, but Chris had enough knowledge of the members of the Hale pack to know that the man was none of those closest to Talia in the pack hierarchy, but he was still one of the woman's fighters, one of the warriors who was probably would be in the front line if necessary.

Chris wondered what would have motivated Talia to put one of these to watch over a pale, thin twenty-year-old boy.

They were at the bar picking up drinks when the hunter finally entered, trying to wait outside for some time so as not to arouse suspicion. Stiles, unlike Finstock who went dancing - completely uncoordinated and strange - stayed at the bar, helping himself to some kind of colorful and extravagant drink.

The problem, however, after watching for a while, was not Stiles drinking at the bar or Bobby dancing, but the blond man who was serving the drinks. It was not obvious, if any civilian observed he would hardly notice what was happening, but for Chris who had been in the business for some time, the fact that the man looks at Stiles every few seconds, trying to catch his eye and make suspicious signs with his eyes. hands when the young man was not looking was very strange.

Chris approached the bar from the opposite side of which Stiles was, of course. He just wanted to watch events closely and determine whether that man was dangerous or not.

Of course, at one point during the night, when Bobby was very busy dancing on the dance floor, Stiles and the bartender exchanged some complicated looks and the magician went to the men's room, being followed shortly by the blond boy.

Following them, Chris ended up outside a crowded cabin in the men's room listening to them and feeling ridiculously inappropriate. Still, he was still a little concerned that the signs the man was doing with his hand might be influencing Stiles in any way.

“Come on, you're so cute with that little pink mouth teasing me over there” someone says, probably the guy who was serving the drinks “What's your name?”

Stiles laughs, Chris is used to hearing him when he is with Bobby, but this time it seems too cold for the boy. Riled up.

“I was hardly teasing you, I just wanted to drink a little, until you started casting spells on my glass. Aren't you ashamed to do that kind of thing? So brazen? ”

Chris feels his body tensing, he didn't know that Stiles had seen what the other man was doing, but at least he didn't need to interfere, apparently.

“Spells? You are crazy?"

"Louis, don't play the fool with me, I know who you are and you know what I am, why try to hide?"

"How do you know my name? Aren't you new in this town? ”

The man's voice sounds scared, almost terrified, and the hunter would very much like to know what Stiles is doing in that cabin to make the man so scared.

“Drunk unsuspecting people to supply their hunger, as if you weren't already appealing enough with your power and all that aura of lust. Is that what you did with Claudia? ”

Something changes in the bathroom, Chris feels the hairs on his arms stand on end when a growl comes from where Stiles and the blonde are. Something cold running down his spine like he only feels when he's in the presence of a dangerous predator.

“Child, why are you challenging me? I am hundreds of years old, you are nowhere near the knowledge and power that I have. Get out, be smart. ”

"You are the one who will leave this place and this city." Stiles' tone of voice changes, it becomes cold and calm, but Chris can feel it at his core, the power rippling from the small cubicle where the two are. “You will leave Beacon Hills, Mamlesriel son of Azazel, or I will make you disappear. Forget Claudia and the disease, leave her alone or your hundread years will become seconds compared to what I will do. ”

"How do you know my name? And what do you know about Claudia? The last time I checked her only relative was that asshole deputy. ”

"Oh, so you're taking advantage of a married woman's loneliness to use her power, aren't you?"

The hunter, listening, tries to remember any woman named Claudia in that city. The deputies he knows well, but their families are hardly a problem for the Argents.

_______

Stiles knows that someone is listening in the bathroom, but at the moment he barely cares about the poor bastard who will pay for his curiosity, not when here is his father, the man he hated so much in recent months and who just tried to get drunk and seduce them by your power. He couldn't help thinking that this was the same thing that happened to his parents, not when his mother was so in love with John and vice versa.

The demon, Louis Domenico, by the badge still in his uniform, is blond with yellow-green eyes. Stiles can see where he got his pale skin and eyes, which looked nothing like any of those who created him. He can see where his big, delicate hands and long lashes come from.

Stiles can also feel the man's fear of him. You can almost read the other's mind and ask yourself, "How do you know me?" "How do you know who I am?" "From where?" "How do I get rid of him?"

But he cannot, he will never know because in that reality the boy Stilinski, what he did with Claudia, is dead and Stiles is good enough in his human strength to have a silver knife soaked in virgin blood, a knife that is burning the thin skin of Mamlesriel's neck right now.

"I love her" the demon says, looking into his eyes with no guilt when Stiles knows it's a lie. "I'm not going to abandon you for a kid who doesn't know what he's doing."

"If I loved you I wouldn't let you die with the powers you have" Stiles spits, feeling more and more like just burying the dagger in his father's carotid artery. "If you loved her you wouldn't let her suffer for years with something she didn't deserve"

**Author's Note:**

> leave comments :)


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